


And I Like You

by DoreyG



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Community: comment_fic, Flirting, M/M, Pebbles, Penguin Romance is the Best (Weirdest) Romance, Unconventional Relationship, courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 22:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3427160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s a pebble.”</p>
<p>“It’s a heart shaped pebble.”</p>
<p>“It’s a <i>pebble</i>.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Like You

“It’s a pebble.”

“It’s a heart shaped pebble.”

“It’s a _pebble_.”

“In the shape of a heart,” Cobblepot smiles, big and just _slightly_ crazy. He always feels like somebody is about to get murdered when he sees that smile – that’s probably because, as a matter of fact, somebody _is_ likely about to get murdered, “don’t you like it?”

…He really should be more bothered by that than he actually is.

“I like it fine, for a pebble,” he says, very carefully, and curls his hand slowly around the… Peace offering? Present? Strange, unaccountable rock that has just been presented like some sort of fancy diamond ring? “I’m just a bit puzzled, you see. Why are you giving me a pebble?”

“As a declaration of my interest, silly!”

“Oh.”

… _Oh_.

Suddenly the presentation makes a lot more sense. He takes in a deep breath, tightens his hand a little further. Cobblepot’s weird, murderous crush on him isn’t any secret – if he wasn’t actually observant, Harvey’s constant teasing would’ve keyed him in pretty damn quick – but he just wasn’t expecting it to become _explicit_ any time soon “…Okay.”

Yet another thing that he really should be more bothered by than he actually is.

“Okay?” Cobblepot frowns at him, thoughtful and hopeful all at once. And that puppy dog look is almost certainly an act, he knows better than to be taken in by somebody who he met while they were beating a man with such violence that even the hardened mobsters were starting to look a little uneasy, but… “Is that meant to be a shocked reaction, Jim? Or an acceptance of my romantic overtures?”

Damn, this was never in the manual. All he can do is think for a long second, frown with his hand still absently curved around the heart shaped pebble.

“…It’s neither,” it says a lot for the state of this city, and what it’s done to the state of his mind, that that blatant bit of nonsense is the best answer he can think of, “and, uh, both. I suppose. In a way.”

Cobblepot’s expression fades from disappointed confusion, to faintly amused fascination. He tilts his head briefly, smiles a little. It’s a good look on him- which is a thought that he suppresses _immediately_ , because _not helping_ , “I hope you’re aware, Jim, that that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Obviously I’ve been hanging around with Nygma too much,” he pauses, takes in a deep breath. He hasn’t been stabbed to death yet, which he’s going to take as a good sign. And he knows that that’s romance at it’s finest, _but_ \- “I’m not rejecting you, you have to understand, but… I also can’t accept you.”

“You can’t?”

“I’m a policeman, you’re a mobster who has a bad habit of killing people in increasingly vicious ways,” he offers, with a polite shrug that Cobblepot… Watches with open amusement, smile growing bigger and bigger in a way that _really_ shouldn’t be so distracting, “it’s, uh, not the most _conventional_ ground for romance.”

“…I suppose not,” Oswald- _Cobblepot_ , god he’s going to need a stiff drink after this, admits slowly. And then smirks, so wickedly that he actually feels his knees go weak like he’s some heroine in one of those romantic melodramas that Barbara – Barbara! Good, remember Barbara – used to force him to watch, “may I have permission to try and change your mind, though?”

…Ah, dammit – who’s Barbara again?

“I… Suppose?” He manages weakly, before his brain even catches up to him, and then realizes what he’s _said_ and what he’s _agreed to_ and- he really shouldn’t be so alright with being damned already. This city is _so bad_ for him, “I mean, you shouldn’t do it openly and it’s probably a bad idea anyway, but-“

“Excellent!” But Oswald - _damned_ \- is already walking away, with a big smile on his face and a certain stance that almost makes it look like he’s _skipping_ out of the station, “I’ll bring you another one tomorrow, then. _Bigger_ this time, possibly more expensive too…”

And so he’s left behind. Standing in the middle of the police station, clutching a heart shaped pebble in his hand… And fighting the urge to grin like a loon, despite every instinct that he’s ever had.

Something, he concludes with unreasonable brightness, must be _wrong_ with him.


End file.
